#vistas
I've walked up these hills 1,000 times,
And I've walked down them just the same.
I'll walk up these hills 1,000 more,
Because each morning ain't ever the same —
The sun rises, casting shadows.
Light and darkness then frame the scene.
God says each morning will be new,
Not wearing on, I sure won't ever see the same this plain.
There's beauty in the clouds,
There's beauty in the rain.
There's beauty in the morning sun
Rising again and again —
I didn't want to walk up the hill this morn…
But viewing this valley and the vista,
I'm sure as hell glad I did.
To gaze upon the beauty, with no need for a frame ~ "pièce de résistance!"
Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 10:55 PM UTC
If I had a flying carpet,
I'd fly you to the falls
to watch the rainbows shimmer
in the rock-spewn mists
of Niagra's reckless plunge.
Or share the blazing sunset
at Big Bend's mystic window:
gazing at pastel layers
merged with the western sky.
Or we'd lower a canoe
in a Missouri stream
on a star-jeweled moonlit night
and hear the dulcet songs
of gentle shore-bound waves
and the hum of an insect choir.
But I have no magic carpet
to whisk you off to peaceful vistas:
only these feeble runes
scratched on a field of white.
Still, I wish that we could get away -
that is -
if you can spare the time.
September, 2007
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 5:39 PM UTC